


A Small Treasure

by elfrootforapostates



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfrootforapostates/pseuds/elfrootforapostates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Night before battle of Redcliffe - An effort to move all of my old writing to one spot</p></blockquote>





	A Small Treasure

Zevran crept silently through the darkened halls of the palace to his appointed rooms. They very notion seemed like a joke. He had laughed openly at the insistence of Alistair and Anora that he be given separate rooms from the warden as they prepared to march towards Redcliffe.

Anora had asserted it was etiquette, even if the room went unused, which he assured them both, in vivid detail, that it indeed would. What he had not foreseen at the time was the convenience of this vacant room in its ability to hide secrets.

The caress of something cold and wet on his fingertips immediately caused Zevran to turn defensively, drawing a small dagger from his boot.

With and embellished sigh, Zevran returned the dagger, squatting down to confront his would be attacker. “Your stealth skills have much improved my friend!”

Upon hearing the approval, the warden’s Mabari Spike turned happily in place with a small bark.

Zevran brought a finger to his lips immediately silencing the bounding Mabari, “I am on an important mission my slobbery friend… one of great importance for our dear warden. If you can remain silent you may tag along, but stealth it is, yes?”

Spike cocked his head staring silently at Zevran, finally hunching down on all fours ready to follow Zevran through the quiet halls.

Zevran led the mabari to the door of his rooms, pausing only to ensure that no one had spotted him. “I must trust you to guard the doorway while I retrieve the treasure. If anyone should approach …act as if you are sleeping, we must not be found.”

Spikes’ short tail wagged happily at the important assignment, moving behind Zevran to block the entrance.

Zevran moved quickly to the rear of the room, pushing aside the chest that protected his secret. Prying loose a small section of stone, he retrieved a small bag of deep green velvet tied with black silk, quickly pocketing the treasure.

Replacing the chest, he returned to the mabari waiting at the door. “You are truly a master my friend, our mission was a success! Shall we return our warden?”

Spike leapt up from his guard position and bound down the hall to the warden’s room, laughing Zevran took off after the hound; there was still much to be done.

As he made his way down the hall, Zevran thought to what lie ahead for all of them in the coming days. The months of preparation and fighting had all been a success, but the biggest fight still lay ahead, a fight that stoked him with fear.

Zevran returned to his room to find the warden still sound asleep. Quietly removing his clothes, Zevran crawled up on the bed behind his warden, delicately placing the velvet bag on his wardens’ outstretched hand; loosely wrapping the black silk tie around the fingers to assure it would not be lost in the covering during the night.

Brushing a lock of dark hair from his warden’s face, Zevran wondered if he should not just wake the warden and dispense with this game.

He had been walking the markets of Denerim, lost in his own thoughts a few days before when a rare treasure caught his eye. It was something he had not seen since his days in Antiva, and though he had done everything in his power to ensure the success and safety of his warden…

No, he chided himself silently. This was not about success or safety, although those things weighed heavily on his mind. This was for his warden alone.

Smiling wide, Zevran curled in behind his warden, pulling his arms tight around him to wait for the inevitable surprise that dawn would bring. “Sleep well, my warden …I am yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Night before battle of Redcliffe - An effort to move all of my old writing to one spot


End file.
